


This Is Me Trying

by Dirade



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, Crying, Dogs, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Nervousness, Rejection, Secret Crush, Teasing, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25889170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirade/pseuds/Dirade
Summary: When Mark asks Ethan out, Ethan thinks it's a prank.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 39
Kudos: 393





	1. This is me trying

**Author's Note:**

> Basically what it says on the can.  
> Eef be sad and Merk do make some dumb jokes, ergo  
> Title is from Taylor Swift's song of the same name!  
> Warning for cursing and boys being sad and stupid.

"Hey, you wanna do something tomorrow?" 

Ethan doesn't even glance up from where he's plugging the camera in to the computer. "I mean, we can, if you want to get ahead. We got all the videos we need for the rest of the week done though." Ethan wonders, briefly, if Mark is stressed because Amy isn't filming them anymore. Mark and Amy parted on somewhat uncertain terms, but the last Ethan heard she was still okay with editing some videos. Maybe that's changed? Ethan still doesn't know why they broke up, and Mark won't elaborate on it no matter how Ethan pries. 

"Not for a video," Mark says, cutting off Ethan's train of thought. 

Ethan hums, checking that the footage is uploading. He glances over at Mark, who's leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, before starting to wrap up the mics. "Just to like...hangout?" Ethan questions, only half paying attention. "Don't we do enough of that already? And it's not like we can go anywhere, so…" 

Mark is silent for long enough that Ethan looks over at him again. Mark is staring at the wall. 

He waits a moment longer for an answer, but it never comes. "You could help me put this stuff away, you know," Ethan prods. 

Mark starts, like he's just remembering that Ethan's in the room. "Oh yeah, right, sorry," he says as he starts to dismantle the lights. "I guess I'm just a little distracted." 

Ethan scans Mark before going to the other light. He thinks about how the air between Mark and his ex is still charged with a tension he can't quite place. The split must have bothered Mark on some level, since the man refuses to talk about it. "Is this about Amy?" Ethan asks, trying for casual and keeping his eyes on the light. 

"No!" Mark yelps. "Well, kind of. I guess, but not like… " Mark trails off. 

Ethan finishes putting the light away, choosing his next words carefully. Mark is always so evasive when he talks about her, but Ethan has a sneaking suspicion he knows what the problem is. "It's okay if you still have feelings for her," Ethan says. "It's been almost a month. If you're still in love with her, maybe you should just say that. At least it would -" 

"I'm not," Mark says abruptly. 

Ethan turns around to see Mark glaring at him, the lights already away. 

"Not going to talk to her?" Ethan packs away the light he was taking apart as well, trying to gauge Mark's response. Ethan and Mark have always clicked in a way that felt easy, natural, but recently Ethan just can't seem to get a read on his friend. "It would get it off your chest, you know. It might be nice to -" 

"No." Mark cuts him off again. "I'm not in love with her." 

The clarification makes Ethan frown in confusion. "Oh, okay. Then what's the problem?" 

Mark exhales heavily, blowing his hair out of his face. "It's complicated." 

Ethan eyes Mark before heading into the kitchen to grab his things. Mark keeps avoiding his eyes, looking at the floor, the wall, the computer. It bothers Ethan more than it should. 

Just as Ethan finishes stuffing his belongings into a bag, Mark speaks again. 

"So do you wanna do it?" 

"Do what?" Ethan asks, turning around. 

"Just… I dunno, hang out. Tomorrow." Mark fidgets, his gaze focused on Ethan's shoulder. 

Ethan can tell something is off, but he can't for the life of him figure out what it is. "Like, why though? We literally can't do anything cause everything's closed. Unless you wanna just chill in your house." 

"Would that be so bad?" Mark questions, shifting his weight. 

“I mean, no,” Ethan hedges, chewing on his lip. “But we talk all the time. I mean I like being around you, obviously, but…” Ethan doesn’t know how to put what he feels into words. “It doesn’t have to be, like, a thing, ya know?” 

Mark stares down at his feet, fingers tapping at his crossed arms. “What if I want it to be a thing?” he mumbles. 

“What kind of thing?” Ethan prompts. 

Mark unfolds his arms, a frown pulling at his face. "I don't know. I just… there's something I want to talk to you about." 

Ethan studies Mark carefully, cataloging the averted eyes, the shifting stance, the fiddling fingers. His heart sinks with the realization of what this is. "Are… are you sick?" He asks, voice low. 

"What? No! That's not - I'm fine. Why would I even have you over if I was sick?” 

Ethan just shrugs, but relief loosens the tightness in his chest. “I meant, like, cancer or something…” 

Mark shakes his head. “No, I promise I’m not sick. I’m in peak physical condition. Obviously." He gestures to himself, and Ethan suppresses a smile. "It’s… something else.” 

“Well, what is it?” 

Mark shifts again, eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but Ethan's face. It's so strange to see Mark of all people at a loss for words, and if he's being honest, it's starting to make Ethan a little nervous. What could be so big that Mark can't even get the words out, especially to Ethan, his close friend? 

"Spit it out, big boy," Ethan cajoles, though his voice is a little strained. 

Ethan can practically see the gears turning in Mark's brain, the calculation of every outcome that he knows runs constantly in the man's mind: the need for success, for triumph. It goes on for so long that Ethan thinks that might be the end of it - nothing will make Mark talk until he's ready. He's about to grab his things and go when Mark blurts out words Ethan never thought he'd hear:

"I'm trying to ask you on a date!" 

Ethan's blood thunders in his ears, his heart jumping while the rest of his body stays frozen. Mark stares back at Ethan's wide eyes, his glare almost defiant, like he's daring Ethan to question him. 

Looking into those dark eyes, the most important years of his life pass before Ethan's eyes. Each moment overlays itself in his mind's eye, blurring into the tapestry of his life: the years he spent watching Mark, the consuming need for his recognition, the exhilaration of being contacted by his long-time inspiration, the thrill of coming out to LA and doing something he loved. He sees the hero worship and the friendship, the family he made and the constant need to impress Mark, to prove himself, to be the reason Mark laughed. He remembers trying to convince himself that he just saw Mark as a friend, an idol, that it wasn't a crush, that his gaze didn't linger a little longer when Mark smiled, that he was happy, always happy, that Mark and Amy were together. More than that, he remembers the offhand comments, the little jabs about his appearance, the laughter of Mark and Tyler when Ethan wasn't in on the joke, the endless badgering about Ethan's forgetfulness, illiteracy, stupidity. He remembers Mark talking about how septiplier was a good marketing tactic until they lost control of it, how Unus Annus was getting a little stale and maybe they should ham it up for the cameras. 

Ethan sees Mark more clearly than he ever has before. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ethan spits. Mark opens his mouth, but Ethan doesn't let him continue. "You're sick. This - this is fucking disgusting and I can't believe -" 

"Whoa, hey," Mark starts, and now he's starting to look upset too, but he has no right, no right to look like that when he - "Don't you think that's going a little too far? Let's not bring homophobia into this." 

Ethan balks, rendered speechless for all of two seconds until the simmering rage in his chest bubbles over again. "Homophobia? Is that what you think - you're the one taking this too fucking far! How dare you say that I'm - I'm -" 

Mark puts his hands up, shrugging, and his nonchalance makes Ethan's blood boil. "I'm just saying. You were using some pretty pointed words just now." 

Anger seethes beneath Ethan's skin, deafening and blinding. He can't think past it, can't even think about how it's rooted in old, deep hurt, how this anger is born from the betrayal of someone he thought was his friend. "It's not cause you're gay, dumbass! Which I know you aren't cause you've said it enough fucking times. It's because this - this is the shit you pull? Today? Now?" Ethan can barely get the words out, losing his grip on them as soon as they burn through his mind. "You think this is some fucking game? Some prank?" 

That, finally, gives Mark pause. "What?" he asks, and he does look genuinely confused, but Ethan doesn't care. 

"Oh, ha ha, so funny, asking my best friend on a date prank, trying to make the guy who's had a crush on me for years think I'm actually into him prank. Fucking hilarious, Mark," Ethan deadpans. 

Mark is shaking his head. "Wait, wait, wait, did you just say -" 

Ethan can't even hear Mark over the roar of anger that pounds in his skull. All he can think about is that this is why Mark and Amy 'broke up,' this is why Mark hasn't wanted to talk about it. She's in on it too, they all are, everyone he met through Mark knows just how stupid and pathetic his little crush was. How many people are laughing at him? 

"Where's the camera?" Ethan bites out, looking around. 

"There's no -" 

"I'm not fucking playing with you, Mark! Where's the camera?!" Ethan doesn't wait for Mark to answer, throwing open cupboards, pushing aside a stack of papers. 

"Ethan, stop!" Mark yells, reaching for him. 

Ethan whips around, reeling back. “Don’t fucking touch me!” 

“Okay, okay,” Mark placates, hand still outstretched. “Just calm down for -” 

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Ethan screams, eyes wild. "You think I don't fucking know what this is? You think I don't know how stupid you think I am, how you laugh at me behind my back? This is too fucking far, Mark." 

“I’m not - this isn’t a joke, Ethan. I’m serious,” Mark tries, and he sounds desperate enough that Ethan almost believes him. Almost. 

“Don’t.” Ethan wants to believe Mark so badly it makes his chest ache. He wants this to be real so much it almost scares him. But he knows the truth. He’s known Mark long enough, been here long enough, to know what this is. “Don’t lie to me. Please.” Tears start to burn in his eyes and he takes a few deep, shaking breaths to push them back down. 

“I’m not lying to you,” Mark says, face twisting. “I wouldn’t do something like this to you. You know that.” 

Ethan shakes his head, tearing his gaze away from the pain on Mark’s face. It’s true, he never expected Mark to pull something like this, to be so purposefully cruel, but it makes more sense than the alternative. Mark doing something stupid and mean for content, confident that it will be a fun bit that they’ll both laugh about later, makes more sense than a world in which Mark - smart, handsome, charismatic, successful, Mark - likes Ethan of all people. Nothing would make sense otherwise. Why the endless jabs and jokes? The comments about his intelligence, his appearance, his channel? This is what their relationship has always been like, but to take it this far, to go for the spot where Ethan’s weakest… 

“I understand what you were trying to do,” Ethan admits, leaning back against the counter. The energy drains from his body as he stares down at his feet. “You thought it would be funny. You thought it would be a good bit. Lean in, ya know?” Ethan wraps his arms around himself. “I can take a joke. You know I can.” He glances up at Mark, sees the shine of tears in his eyes, and looks away again. “But this is just too much, Mark. It’s too far.” 

“It’s not a joke. Ethan…” Mark’s voice distorts, growing heavy under the weight of his sadness. “I really… I really like you. I have for a while.” 

“Stop,” Ethan pleads, his shoulders drawing up towards his ears. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way but I don’t want you to think I’m just messing with you,” Mark continues. “I want to take you on a date. You’re smart, funny, passionate -” 

“Please stop,” Ethan begs through gritted teeth. His heart twists, the promise of everything he’s always wanted so unbearably close and still so far. Guilt and anger and all his years of longing mix in a bitter sludge at the back of his throat. 

“Please, Ethan, just listen to what I’m saying. I’m not trying to hurt you -” 

“But you are!” Ethan raises his head, hands balling into fists. His vision blurs as he tries to focus on Mark’s face, a sob bubbling in his chest. “You are hurting me. You know that.” Ethan’s next words are thick with emotion, choked out of his throat with a momentous effort. “So please, please…” A sob steals his next words, but he doesn’t take his watery gaze off of Mark’s face. 

“I don’t understand why it’s so hard to believe that I might like you,” Mark insists, but Ethan can see him starting to crumble. Good. Ethan doesn’t know how much more of this he can endure. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Mark stares, shock written across his face. “I just…” It seems like he’s run out of words. At last, the well of lies runs dry. In the hesitation, his next words ring true. “I just wanted you to know.” 

That’s what makes Ethan break open. It’s the thing he’s wanted for so many years, the thought that if he just told Mark about his feelings at least it wouldn’t be his burden to bear anymore, the promise of closure, of moving on. The thing Ethan had denied himself to keep their friendship intact, the thing Ethan had told himself he could never have because he couldn't stand to lose Mark’s friendship. He’s always wanted Mark to know. But not like this. 

Ethan slides down to sit on the floor, pressing his hands over his face, and cries. 


	2. At Least I'm Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things take time, aka a little more explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for things getting a little hot and heavy for like two paragraphs and anxiety. 
> 
> Did I finish writing this a month ago and just put off posting it? Well

Mark is saying something, but Ethan is crying too hard to even think about listening to him. Each sob hurts, tearing on it's way up as he hiccups his heart into his hands. 

"C'mon, Spencer, go to Ethan," Ethan hears before a soft, wet nose bumps into the back of his hand. 

He opens his eyes to see Spencer nudging closer to him, head cocked to the side. "Hey, bunko," Ethan murmurs, burying his hands in the dog's fur. He leans forward to press their foreheads together, a giggle escaping him as Spencer licks his cheek. 

Ethan looks around for Mark, but the man is nowhere to be found. Disappointment sinks in Ethan's chest, but not surprise. "At least I'll always have you," he mumbles to Spencer, petting the dog's ears as he tries to control his breathing. 

He doesn't know how long he sits there, breathing and shaking, before he hears the front door open. 

He raises his head to see Amy come around the corner. Shame crawls up his body in burning tendrils that paint his skin red. He doesn't understand why they're doing this, how his friends could be so cruel. He hugs Spencer a little closer, hiding his face in the dog's fur. 

"Ethan…" she says, and even though her voice is soft, he knows she’s mocking him. “Mark told me what happened…” she continued when he didn’t speak. 

“And you wanted to come laugh at me too,” Ethan bites out, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. 

“No, Ethan, no,” Amy coos, kneeling down in front of him. “It’s not like that at all. We both care about you. And Mark -” 

“Make him stop,” Ethan pleads. He wants so desperately to believe her. He wants to believe that they care about him, but how could that be true? In a final effort, he asks for mercy. " _ Please _ ." If Mark won’t listen to him, maybe Amy will. She’s always been the voice of reason when the two of them spiraled into chaos. 

Amy looks back at him with pity. “I can’t.” She sits cross legged on the floor, studying Ethan as he pets Spencer, smoothing down the same patch of fur over and over. “Let me tell you why Mark and I broke up.” 

Ethan frowns, confused. Once she showed up he was so sure his suspicions had been correct - that they had faked the whole breakup to make the prank more believable. But he doesn’t say that, just nods to let her know she can continue. 

“I thought Mark would find a better way to break this to you, but…” She pauses, her eyes going distant, unfocused. “The truth is that I could tell he was losing interest in me.” She exhales, long and low, her gaze sinking to the floor. “I’ve loved him for a long time. I know him. And I knew when he stopped loving me.” Her eyes lift to his again, and he sees the pain in her face, the resignation, the exhaustion. “I just couldn’t figure out why. And then I realized. It was because of you.” Ethan’s heart twists, but Amy doesn’t sound angry or sad or cruel. She sounds… tired. “I saw how he looked at you, how he talked about you. I don’t think he even knew it until I said something, but I knew. I know how it looks when he falls in love with someone.” Her eyes might be glossy, but it might just be a trick of the light. “I broke up with him because he was more interested in you than me.” 

“Amy, I -” Ethan watches her stand and he can’t read her at all, can’t tell what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-” 

She smiles at him, like she knows everything in the world. “I know,” she says. “It’s not something any of us can control.” She bends down, putting a hand on his cheek. “But he really does like you.” Ethan stares up at her, paralyzed by the stars in her eyes. “I’ll be okay. I just wanted you to know.” Her lips brush against his forehead and then she’s gone, leaving Ethan to stare at the space she left behind. 

His mind races inside his frozen body, trying to process what Amy just told him. It makes sense, in some ways. In a lot of ways. Why would she lie to him? This has gone too far to be some stupid prank video. They wouldn’t have kept going once he asked them to stop. 

And… and maybe it does make sense in other ways too. Maybe he has noticed Mark smiling at him a little more, sending him a few more texts, getting a little more tactile in a way that Ethan has been excusing as video content and his own imagination. 

Maybe… maybe the idea that Mark likes him isn’t so crazy after all. 

Ethan stands when Mark enters the room. He lets Spencer wander off as he takes in Mark’s red eyes and shaking hands, the apologetic tilt of his head, the slump of his shoulders. “Is it true?” Ethan asks. “What Amy said?” 

Mark lifts his eyes from the floor to look at Ethan. He doesn’t say anything. 

“Did you guys break up because of me?” 

Mark nods. 

Ethan can barely breathe. The next word comes out as a whisper. “Why?” He takes a shuddering inhale. “Why me?” 

Mark shrugs, the action so helpless and powerless that he’s almost unrecognizable. “I couldn’t help it. It just… happened.” 

Ethan has tried to understand Mark for so long. In some ways, Ethan knew Mark long before they met. Like flipping through the pages of a book, the intersection of their lives flashes through his mind, every moment of sadness and elation, the oppressive weight of shame and the untethered nights of loneliness, the joy and the laughter and the ache of longing for change while wishing he could live in those moments forever. The words and images pass before him in an instant. He reads their entire story, cover to blank pages and thinks about where they can possibly go from here. He settles on the one thing he needs to know. 

“So it’s not a joke? You really mean it?” 

Mark’s face crumples, and he takes a step forward before stopping himself. “It’s not a joke. I promise.” 

Ethan lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "Okay," he responds shakily, eyes filling with tears. "I just… you always… like, I dunno." Ethan crosses his arms, looking down at his feet. "I mean, it's fine, obviously, but I just thought that the, like… 'I'm better than you' and the 'don't touch me' stuff was, like - I know it was a bit but it's funny because it's true, right?" Ethan glances up at Mark, chewing on his lip. "Didn't you kinda… mean it?" 

That seems to spur Mark into motion again, and this time he comes close enough that Ethan leans back a little, hands moving to grip the edge of the counter. One of Mark's hands comes to rest over one of Ethan's, their fingers resting on top of each other but not intertwined. Mark's other hand cups Ethan's cheek, thumb tracing the crest of his cheekbone. 

Ethan's brain short circuits, but through the haze of smoke and sparks he still hears what Mark has to say. 

"You are so important to me. I know I mess around and maybe I shouldn't, but I need you to know that I have never, ever, thought you were stupid or ugly or annoying, or that I was better than you in any way." He sounds so earnest, staring straight into Ethan's eyes like a challenge. 

It makes Ethan squirm. "Never?" He asks, trying for coy and ending up with faint skepticism. The look in Mark's eyes is so intense that Ethan wants to look away, but there's nowhere else to look - Mark is taking up his whole field of view, filling up every bit of available space. 

"Ethan, you are smart and talented and hardworking and creative and so fucking gorgeous that it hurts me. I want you. I want  _ you.  _ Do you understand?" 

Ethan feels frozen, every muscle in his body locking up, but Mark sounds so sure, so  _ right,  _ that Ethan can't help but believe him. He nods, unable to speak. 

Mark smiles back at him, and it makes Ethan's heart jump. "Can I kiss you?" Mark asks, gaze dropping to Ethan's lips. Ethan barely manages another nod before Mark leans down, the hand on Ethan's cheek coming to rest on the back of his neck, holding him in place as Mark's lips press against his. 

It feels like every nerve ending in Ethan's body is firing at the same time - he can't respond, can't think, can't breathe. He registers every detail separately, each imprinting upon his mind like the afterglow of a firework. Mark's hand on the back of his neck, fingers buried in Ethan's hair. Mark's other hand shifting to Ethan's waist, dragging him closer till their bodies are flush. The smell of Mark cologne and shampoo, the scratch of his beard. The feel of Mark's lips, soft and full, against his own. 

Ethan melts, hands moving to Mark's sides and clutching the man's shirt. He feels Mark deepen the kiss, his mouth sliding open, and Ethan has to bite back a whimper. Mark's pressing him back into the counter, surrounding him, his presence heady and oppressive. It makes Ethan's breath catch and his lungs burn, the slick slide of Mark's mouth dispelling all other thought. 

Then Mark slots his thigh between Ethan's legs, pushing up against him. Ethan's heart stutters, static filling his ears. Desire and anxiety alike flare in his gut and Ethan tries to speak, but Mark is still kissing him, still pressed up against every inch of him, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of Ethan's shirt. His touch burns so hot it makes Ethan's skin go cold. 

"Wait -" Ethan gasps, pulling away from the kiss, hands moving to grip Mark's shoulders. Mark sways forward, eyes hazy and gaze still focused on Ethan's lips. Ethan pants, struggling to speak when Mark's fingers are still drawing gentle shapes on his hip. "Wait -" he says again, starting to squirm. It puts more of his weight on the bone of Mark's thigh and he shudders, his blood going hot. 

Mark lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through Ethan's chest. "Yes, Ethan?" Ethan can't get a grasp on his thoughts, each one slipping away like water through his fingers. This is all happening so fast. Just 10 minutes ago he was convinced that Mark was playing a cruel trick on him and now Mark is over him, on top of him, the taste of him still fresh on Ethan's tongue. Mark's lips press against the side of Ethan's neck, his next words warm and damp on Ethan's skin. "What is it, babydoll?" 

"S - stop -" Ethan finally chokes out, voice shaking. "Stop, stop stop." Though his hands tremble, he pushes Mark away, and the man goes willingly, brow creased in confusion. 

"What is it? What's wrong?" Mark asks, his eyes clearing. 

Ethan leans back against the counter, trying to catch his breath. He feels like he's just run a marathon, his heart pounding so hard that it hurts. "I just…" Ethan pants, chest heaving. "It's too much, I -" He cuts himself off, breath catching. 

"Do you want me to slow down? Do you want some water? What do you need?" 

"Water," Ethan croaks, licking his dry lips. He watches Mark's eyes track the motion before the man moves to grab a water bottle for him. 

Mark unscrews the top before handing the bottle to Ethan, and Ethan chugs half the bottle while he tries to collect his thoughts. He feels drunk off Mark's touch, unbalanced and unsteady, like the world has been knocked off its axis. His mind is a little clearer as he puts the water bottle down, wiping the residual moisture off his mouth with the back of his hand. Again, Mark's eyes follow the action. 

Ethan wants Mark, he can't deny that, but he can barely understand what's going on. He's not ready for… what Mark was asking for. He tries to say as much. "Sorry…" he starts, swallowing thickly. "This is all just…" He gestures uselessly with his hand. "Happening so fast." 

"I know, I just thought -" 

Ethan cuts Mark off. "No, no, I know. I'm… I want…this." He gestures again, hand moving between them. "I want  _ you. _ This is just… I need to slow down." He grimaces, sure that Mark will make fun of him, but instead Mark just grabs his hand, gentle as anything. Ethan looks down at their hands and then up at Mark's eyes again. He sees the compassion there. And maybe even… love. "I just need a little more time," Ethan whispers, like he's sharing a secret. 

Mark smiles back at him. "I'll wait as long as you need." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally haven't touched this fic since August and I'm still in debate of doing another Unus Annus work before November, but like... I do be bad at schedules.  
> Anyway, I hope this was enjoyable to y'all! This is the most shippy one I've written as far as them being explicitly romantic and not just confessing their feelings, so let me know what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter two will be posted once I actually write it :)


End file.
